


Traveling Soldier

by cuspofqueens



Series: Life Well Lived [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuspofqueens/pseuds/cuspofqueens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the easiest conversation Puck has ever had; but then, he didn't think it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traveling Soldier

The silence on the other end of the phone is deadly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Puck closes his eyes and grits his teeth, one hand lifting up to take a drag from the lit cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers. It’s a filthy habit, and not even one he’s particularly fond of, but it gives him something to do with his hands, and that’s necessary for conversations like this.

She’s not pleased. But then, Santana is rarely pleased when somebody throws her a curve ball.

“I’m joining the Marines,” he repeats, like it’s just a bad connection that made her ask.

She scoffs. “No, you’re not. You can’t! _Why_?”

He runs a hand over his face and tries to relax his jaw. That’s such a loaded question, he doesn’t even know where to start. How to tell her about the suffocation and the clawing desperation to get out of this town and go somewhere, anywhere and to do something, anything with his life? To avoid being just another Lima loser that the housewives all leer at when their husbands aren’t looking, to make something of himself that he can talk about with pride? How can he explain the feelings of frustration and heartache at knowing he’s not good enough for the one person he wants more than anything?

It’s taken him almost a year to come to terms with his attraction for Kurt Hummel, of all people, for all the good it does him when the guy is six hundred miles away at some fancy university. For all the good it would have done him either way, really. Puck’s a stud, it’s true, but he’s also a big fish in a really small pond, and now that Kurt’s gotten to the beach or whatever, Puck’s not going to be able to compete with all those out and proud gay boys in NYC.

And yeah, maybe it is a phase or something. Puck’s certainly never been attracted to any _other_ guys (and girly or not, Hummel is definitely a dude), but something about how he plays like he’s better than everybody else and that guarded look in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile when he’s trying not to be amused by something Puck has said...

They had a great time over the holidays, all three of them kicking back at Puck’s apartment or in Santana’s dad’s house. Kurt’s place was full of his dad and Finn and his mom, and even though Puck’s not entirely sure how or when their little group became so insular, he’s sure as hell not complaining. Sometimes it feels like these are the only two people in the world who don’t expect him to be anything other than what he is, and while there’s a comfort in that, they also make him want to be better.

But considering both of them are at school on daddy’s money, how in the world can he expect them to understand minimum wage and the cost of living?

Either way, Puck has no idea how to explain all of this to his favorite girl, so all he can offer is, “I guess I want to be more than just another Lima loser.”

He knows it’s the right thing to say when she immediately responds with a fierce, “You are _not_ a loser, Puckerman, so shut the hell up and don’t talk about yourself that way.”

He’s quiet, a trick he learned in high school. If he shuts up and lets her process things, eventually...

She sighs. “Does Kurt know? Because I’m not telling him,” she warns.

Puck smiles faintly. “You’re my first phone call.” It’s not exactly a lie. His sister, and by extension, his mother, found out first; but among their friends, Puck hasn’t even told Finn.

“Well, I’m still not telling him.” Puck can hear the pout in her voice and his heart breaks for her, just a little. He’s going to miss her, boot camp is going to _suck_ being cut off from the comfort of phone calls and text messages whenever he wants.

“He’s my next call,” Puck promises, flicking his forgotten cigarette to the ground and putting it out, then picking up the butt and tucking it into his pocket.

She sniffles a little. “You suck.”

He grins. “I know.”

“Okay,” she sighs, finally accepting things with the grudging grace she’s getting better at, “Call Kurt so he can bitch you out, and take care of yourself, okay?”

There’s something he has to tell her before they hang up, and he’s only told her once, and he knows that she knows, but he can’t hang up before saying it. “Santana? I love you.”

She sobs on the other end, and breaks his heart all over again. “I love you too, you bastard.”

Puck smiles and hangs up, feeling inexplicably reassured. They don’t say it often, but they know how they mean it, and that’s enough for them. He scrolls through his contacts list until he comes to Kurt, the entry titled “Princess” in his phone. His thumb hovers over the green button until he takes a deep breath and pushes ‘send’.

It goes to voicemail.

He and Kurt don’t talk every day like he and Santana do, but they do still make contact a couple times a week. Apparently, this isn’t going to be his week.

“Hey, Princess,” he starts, staring up at the pre-dawn stars. “Was thinking of you, just thought I’d touch base. I really wish you had been able to answer the phone, but don’t worry about it. I’m just calling to tell you I’m going to be out of touch for a few months, but that I’m gonna be thinking of you,” Puck sighs, mind wandering as he tries to think of the best thing to say. “I’m not in trouble, don’t worry. It’ll give you frown lines. Just... call San, and I’ll try to call you when I get there.” And, because he said it to Santana, he has to say it to Kurt. “I love you.”

“Ready, son?”

Puck looks up to where his recruiter is waiting patiently next to the van that will take him to the airport and nods. “Yeah, man. Thanks for waiting.”

He picks up his bag and climbs into the van. On the ride out, he never looks back.


End file.
